


Meet Cute

by DangerousCommieSubversive



Category: DCU, Secret Six, Seven Soldiers of Victory
Genre: Crack Pairing, Cute, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:50:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/DangerousCommieSubversive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The idea of Klarion meeting Black Alice hit me and the Boy in a sudden moment of late-night enlightenment, and the thought was so cute that I had to write it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Cute

He felt...a _tickle_ in his magic.

Not a tug. Not a jab. Not an attack. A tickle.

How curious.

It was there, and then it was gone. But it was traceable. So Klarion followed it. It wasn't very hard. He traced it and he saw...

...a _goddess._

On the field of _battle._

And she looked like she was his age! Maybe a year older.

Hair as black as nightmares, skin as pale as alabaster, boots he could have _stood up_ inside. Her lips, her nails, her most _gloriously_ tattered garments...all black!

Her eyes were shut, the very _picture_ of divine repose, as around her raged a battle most bizarre. Klarion saw a harlequin, a banshee, a shootist, the great and terrible Bane, and some others arrayed before a fearsome host. But the goddess stood back, and then...

And _then._

She grew three feet taller, her hair streamed from her head, her clothes became robes, she opened her eyes and all the starry night was within them. And for a moment she raised her hands, and all the hosts of the Dreaming flowed from them in a swirl of sand.

The enemy host fell, and so did she, wilting to the ground like a pale flower, her divine attributes fading. Her comrades—servants, perhaps—rushed to her side not quite in time to catch her.

 _He_ was faster! Although Teekl, perched on his shoulder, did protest his leap.

One of her comrades, a large, tawny man, glanced askance at Teekl and then said, “Who are _you?_ ”

Before he could reply—the goddess stirred! She murmured, she turned her head in his hands, her eyes fluttered open—and she frowned. “Are you...blue? Did _I_ do that?”

“No, my lady! But if you _had,_ I would be immensely honored.”

She sat up, brow crinkling most charmingly. “Who are you?”

“Klarion. Of Limbo Town.” He took her hand and kissed it. “I felt your touch, dark goddess, and I came to you. May I know _your_ name?”

“Ok, _that's_ enough.”

“I—unhand me!”

The clawed woman was, with her mask, _very_ difficult to read, but she seemed to be frowning. “Get lost, shorty.”

“But—”

“Black Alice is not for you.” And _that_ was Bane, who was standing _very_ close. “Depart.”

“Is _that_ your name? Black Alice?” He extracted his coat from the clawed woman's grip and shyed away from Bane, straightening his collar. “It's _lovely._ _Enchanting._ I am at your service, o divine Black Alice.”

Teekl was hissing at the tawny man, who hissed back, and then said to the shootist, “That is _not_ a _cat._ ”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

“You're going to second-guess _Catman?_ Cats are my _thing._ ”

Klarion plucked a fallen gun from the ground, and in seconds it was a bouquet of pitch-black daffodils. “For you, my lady.”

Black Alice took them, blinking. “Really?”

 _“Go away, little creepy thing.”_ The harlequin had spidered over, its masked face somehow disapproving. _“And that's coming from me. Shoo.”_

“Maybe you should go.” Black Alice picked herself up from the ground, blushing. “My fam—my fri—they get a little weird sometimes.”

The banshee laid a cool hand on his shoulder. “Run along, little witch boy.”

Klarion beamed at her, feeling...more intimidated than he would happily admit to. “You know what I am!”

“Of course I do, dear.” Her smile was _not_ friendly. “Run along.”

“Well, I, ah—I will go! But—call my name, divine Alice, and I will be _forever_ at your service! Klarion, of Limbo Town!” He held out a hand. “Come, Teekl!”

As he faded from sight, he heard the glorious goddess say, faintly, “A boy's never brought me flowers before.”

 _“Hmph,”_ said the harlequin. _“Disturbing little creature.”_

“I thought he was cute.” She stared into her bouquet. “Klarion. Of Limbo Town.”


End file.
